


running within these concrete walls

by injo



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy, Alternate Universe - Prison, Andrew & Neil are cellmates, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, POV Neil Josten, canon typical homophobia, mentions of drug abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injo/pseuds/injo
Summary: The man got up from the bed, stretching leisurely and revealing the same blaringly orange jumpsuit, tied at the waist so only the ‘Minyard’ part of his name label was on show.“Let’s start with some ground rules then, shall we? We’re not friends. You want to speak to someone, find some other idiot to babble your sob stories to. You don’t touch my stuff; I don’t touch yours. And try to stick to your side of the room.”“Want to draw a line down the middle so I know where not to cross? Maybe we can each piss in one side of the toilet bowl?”****A Prison AU where Neil makes his first friend, and him & Andrew go from being Enemies to Reluctant Conspirators to Lovers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have like 95% of this written, just have to add a little scene at the end. But I didn’t want to wait to share, so here it is! Will be updating every day till Sunday, cause I’ve always wanted to do the multi-chapter thing :D

Neil got out of the minivan and looked up at the barbed wire towering above him, his mother’s last words echoing in his head: “Run, run, run.” It had been four years now since he had been forced to burn her body and bury her bones, and yet the words she’d said with a last desperate snatch of breath still resonated in his head like they had been uttered yesterday.

“Daydreaming, princess?” said a guttural voice. Neil ignored the taunt, shaking himself out of his memories and looking ahead resolutely to ignore the rabble of inmates pressed against the chain link on either side of him.

He was nudged forward by an impatient guard with a baton to his back. He carried on forward, focussing on the scratchy feel of the standard issue prison jumpsuit against his skin as he finally entered the prison. It was bare of any decoration besides a lone plaque commemorating the prison’s opening fixed next to the door.

After the standard strip and search he was finally left in his home for the next two years, a cell not unlike the one he was kept in before his trial, but for two people instead of one. That would be a change: Neil hadn’t lived in close proximity with another person since his mother.

There was a shared desk and shelves, already filled with books with the spines turned in towards the wood so Neil couldn’t read the titles. A steel toilet with a sink attached was opposite, with a ventilation shaft set above it that Neil allowed himself to briefly entertain the urge to _run, run, run_. A life on the road had left him lean, and if he could just find a sharp tool…

“Those vents lead to the laundry room, nowhere else,” said a voice coming from the bunk bed, which dominated the corner of the room. A tuft of blonde hair was just visible over the top of the uniform blue sheets covering both beds, pale hands tucked around a thick brick of a book titled ‘Les Miserables’.

“I was just checking the air supply,” said Neil automatically.

“And my name is Jean Valjean.”

“And I am Javert.”

The blonde man raised a single, equally blonde eyebrow. “Great, they’ve given me a comedian.”

“What did you have before?”

“A coward and a liar. He didn’t last long.”

“Where is he now?”

“He got re-assigned. Day lives with the Ravens now.”

“Ravens?”

“You have so much to learn. First timers,” he said, shaking his head. The man got up from the bed, stretching leisurely and revealing the same blaringly orange jumpsuit, tied at the waist so only the ‘Minyard’ part of his name label was on show.

“Let’s start with some ground rules then, shall we? We’re not friends. You want to speak to someone, find some other idiot to babble your sob stories to. You don’t touch my stuff; I don’t touch yours. And try to stick to your side of the room.”

“Want to draw a line down the middle so I know where not to cross? Maybe we can each piss in one side of the toilet bowl?”

Minyard’s eyes flashed, the only change in his otherwise apathetic expression. He continued as if Neil hadn’t said anything, while Neil wondered at the way Minyard managed to convey a studied scorn with the rather bored inflection.

“They’ll expect me to show you around, I expect you to pay attention the first time. I’m not a babysitter. You get lost, you find your own way back.”

Minyard abruptly slipped into his shoes and left the cell, curling his fingers in a careless gesture to follow as he continued.

“You’ll be assigned work shifts like the rest of us, starting tomorrow from 8:30am. Go to the Correctional Officer’s office before breakfast to get your assignment. Wymack’s an idealistic fucker but he’ll sort you out. Try and avoid going to Tetsuji if you can.”

“Tetsuji?” Andrew pointed out the yard and mess hall they were walking past before answering.

“The Ravens have him in their pocket. If you ever fancy two weeks in solitary for looking at one of their members wrong, he’s your guy.”

“So the Ravens are a… prison gang?”

“Keep your voice down,” Minyard said, the command in his tone sounding off as his intonation didn’t change at all.

“So the Ravens are a prison gang?” Neil mock whispered. Minyard ignored the sarcasm and continued unaffected.

“More like a cult. They have decent contraband, which is the only reason anyone puts up with them. Cigarettes, porn, alcohol, drugs. Though for the first three you’re better off sticking with the Trojans.”

Neil surmised they were another gang while Minyard’s gaze travelled across Neil’s uncovered forearms cursorily. Neil in turn wondered if it was track marks that were hidden under Minyard’s own black armbands.

“Laundry Room,” Minyard said, tipping his head towards a heavy steel door from which Neil could hear the steady _thump, thump, thump_ of dryers match the beating of his heart.

They finally stopped outside an open bay window, beyond which Neil could see a small room filled with snacks and hygiene products.

“The usual,” Minyard said to the woman with rainbow tipped hair manning what Neil supposed was the commissary. Neil looked on in mild disgust as the woman immediately started putting two of each candy bar into a bag.

“How’s the latest book, Andrew?” she called over her shoulder as Minyard drummed his fingers against the glass steadily.

The name Andrew seemed too innocuous for the obviously powerful, possibly dangerous man Neil would be forced to bunk with for the next couple of years. It was hard not to notice the stretch of muscle across Minyard’s shoulders in the tight, white t-shirt he was wearing and the easy, coiled way in which he had been holding himself, as if ready to deliver a blow.

“Needs more zombies and fewer instructions on how to build a barricade,” Andrew replied. The unexpected answer made Neil cough to cover up a sudden snort of amusement. He had thought the exact same thing about the barricades when he’d been forced to read it in a school in France. Andrew looked at him impassively.

The woman turned to Neil suddenly, as if noticing him for the first time.

“You’re Andrew’s new cell mate?”

“Neil Josten,” he replied curtly, something about the woman’s all-to-knowing eyes coupled with the gentleness of her upturned lips setting him on edge.

“Renee Walker. Would you like anything?” Neil thought back to the meagre amount of money he had in his account and shook his head.

“Well, good luck settling in. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

Acknowledging the dismissal with a nod of his head, Neil turned on his heel and started walking back to the cell. Minyard had disappeared off somewhere with his candy bars. Neil hoped he wouldn’t prove the blonde man right and get lost on his way back to the cell.

****

Neil woke with a start, the sticky feel of sweat heavy on his face as he squinted at Minyard’s alarm clock in the darkness. 6:52. Eight minutes until it was time to wake up. The ceiling above him felt oppressively close as he tried to steady his breathing, the sense memory of flashing blue and red lights still burning into his retinas from his dream.

He began to mechanically go through the motions of getting ready for the day, trying to wash his face and brush his teeth as quietly as possible so that he didn’t wake Minyard up.

The smaller man had sauntered into the cell the day before, long after Neil had found his own way back. Most of the candy bars had been gone and replaced with a couple of tobacco nubs rolled in toilet paper that were hidden in a hollowed out book. Neil had to resist rolling his eyes at the obvious hiding place.

He slipped out of the cell door just as the _buzz_ sounded indicating that the cells had opened for the day. Finding the Warden’s office was easy, avoiding the other inmates who could sense that he was obviously new was harder. Neil fixed his gaze neutrally ahead, keeping his shoulders back and head up. He didn’t want anyone to think he was an easy target just because of his height. A couple of taunts and shoves were sent his way regardless.

The office’s door was black and unassuming, with a tatty sign hanging in front asking visitors to ‘Please Knock’ at odds with the gilded gold name plate bearing ‘Tetsuji Moriyama – Correctional Officer’ and a more modest wooden sign saying ‘David Wymack – Correctional Officer’. Neil knocked hesitantly and waited until a gruff voice called ‘Come in.’

“Ah, Josten. Here for your work assignment I take it?” Neil nodded at the man with tribal flame tattoos up his arm, who was seated in one of the chairs behind a desk labelled ‘Wymack’.

“You’re going to be with us for the next two years. It was for breaking and entering, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Neil replied, still hovering uncertain by the door. Even though his father had died in a prison stabbing three years ago, he still hated getting close to any man who even vaguely resembled Nathan.

Wymack sighed. “Come and sit down.”

Neil sat down gingerly on the seat indicated, grateful for the wooden expanse of desk between them.

“Now I see here you’ve got your GED, which means you qualify to work in either the library or teaching other inmates. As both of those are Tier Two jobs, you earn them with good behaviour. Show us that you can behave for four months, and then we’ll consider you. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir.” Neil repeated.

“For now you’re going to be working in the laundry room with Boyd and Gordon. Six hours a day, thirty hours a week in Laundry Room A.”

Wymack paused and Neil nodded.

“Okay, head to breakfast. Try and stay out of trouble. I don’t want to have to see you again until you get that Tier Two job.”

Neil nodded again and got up to leave, however before he could reach the door he was interrupted by an unfamiliar, slightly wizened man holding a cane.

“Who’s this, David?”

“Neil Josten, Tetsuji. Came in with the new batch yesterday.”

Neil ducked his head, noticing the suspicious gleam in Tetsuji’s eyes. There was no way the CO could possibly recognise him, right? Neil repressed an uneasy shudder as he was reminded of being in his natural colouring; hair dye and contacts were luxuries he’d had to go without while on trial.

With a speed and grace that was surprising, Tetsuji finally stopped looking at Neil and went to sit at his own desk.

“Well, off you go then. Don’t expect to dawdle here all day.”

Neil muttered a hasty, “Yes, sir” before escaping through the door. He once again itched to _run, run, run._


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, new guy. Over here,” a man with spiky black hair called out when Neil entered Laundry Room A. He made his way over, weaving through chest-high baskets filled with dirty sheets, jumpsuits and underclothes.

“I’m Matt Boyd, good to meet you. Grumpy pants over there is Seth, Seth Gordon.”

Seth grunted in Neil’s vague direction and returned to folding sheets in a corner.

“Neil Josten,” Neil said with a nod.

“Ah, Neil! You’re sharing with Minyard, right?”

“Yeah,”

“Probably best not to piss that guy off.”

“What’s he in here for anyway?”

“You mean he hasn’t told you already?”

“We don’t have the most sharing, caring relationship.”

“Yeah, figures. He beat up four guys nearly to death outside a nightclub, dude has some serious anger issues or something.”

“Why did he do it?”

“Because he’s a psycho? Who knows, man. Anyway, I should probably show you the ropes so Wymack doesn’t have my ass.”

They spent the next hour getting Neil acquainted with all the machines and baskets, working their way steadily through the laundry room until they’d covered everything. Seth mainly ignored them, occasionally looking over to interject with corrections or additional information.

They had settled into an easy rhythm of Neil loading the machines while Matt sorted through the dryers before Matt spoke again.

“So who do you have over the wall?”

“Over the wall?”

“Outside the prison? Girlfriend, family?”

Neil hesitated. He had a cover story prepared, a story of a standard, average Joe with normal relations who’d been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. So, it surprised him when he answered with unexpected honesty,

“Just an uncle. Lives in England.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.”

“If he says boyfriend I’m going to be sick.”

“Pipe down with the homophobia, Seth.”

Matt continued, “I won’t judge either way, you know.”

“No, not that either. I, er, don’t swing.”

Matt got a furrow between his brows and Neil braced himself for reciting an explanation of the ace spectrum, instead what he got was a soft:

“So, you don’t have anyone visiting you?”

Neil shrugged, uncomfortable with the sudden serious turn in conversation.

“You do now,” Matt said, surprisingly sincere. “My girlfriend comes up and visits all the time. You’ll love Dan, she’s great. You can meet her at a visit day sometime?”

The hope in Matt’s voice caught Neil off guard, and he bit back his automatic reproach at being treated like a kid or a stray cat.

“Sure, it’s not like I’ll have anyone visiting me. You won’t mind?”

“No way, bro. It will be great.”

****

After that conversation, Neil found himself spending most of his time with Matt. He’d invited Neil to sit with him at meal times, which Neil had so far weathered alone - sitting awkwardly in the middle of the mess hall as each corner was dominated by either a prison gang or tight-knit group of inmates.

He had to admit it was nice sitting in hall with Matt, and being acknowledged in ways beyond insults and mild threats in the corridors by other inmates and the stony silence of his cellmate. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had demanded so little from him; his and Matt’s conversations were easy and light. Matt normally waxed poetic about his girlfriend or talked about his plans for when he left the prison. He was content to have Neil mostly listen, occasionally asking harmless questions about his preferences for movies, books and food that never felt too invasive or uncomfortable.

After learning about Neil’s preference for fruit, Matt bought freeze dried cranberries from the commissary to the laundry room for them to share during their breaks. He was full of simple, kind gestures like that. He introduced Neil to new shows in the TV room, traded Neil’s too sweet pudding cups at lunch for his own portion of fruit, lent Neil some of his own commissary money to buy a couple of briefs that weren’t the itchy standard prison issue.

It had only been three weeks since he had begun his incarceration, and Neil had to admit that slowly but surely, he had made his first friend.

****

The highlight of most of Neil’s days was normally Yard Time, where he did laps on the off-green turf until his legs felt like they were going to collapse from under him. Despite the sweat, the rushing of blood in his ears, and the shortness of breath, these were the only moments during the long, mostly monotonous days Neil felt he could finally take a lungful of oxygen and _breathe._

He was doing laps a month into his sentence when he felt a tightness in his calf. Cursing himself softly for rushing through stretching at the start of his run, he ventured off the path and began his stretches again, more slowly this time. He kept a steady inhale and exhale going as he flowed into each new pose. The smell of tobacco smoke was in the air.

Memories of a bonfire in California flooded back to him and he felt a different kind of pain permeate his middle, radiating out until his eyes were itching. He followed the smell to the back of one of the equipment sheds.

Minyard was sitting in the dirt there, eyes closed and head leaning back against the wood as he cupped a cigarette in his hands. A tall man with the number ‘2’ tattooed on his cheek was stuffing something into his overall pockets while whispering in an urgent undertone.

Neil had just started to back away clumsily when Minyard opened his eyes and fixed Neil with the same flat expression he wore when he ignored him in their cell.

“Shut up, Kevin. We have company.”

Kevin immediately stopped talking and turned to him, eyes widening as recognition slammed into Neil like a two by four.

“ _Nathaniel?_ ” Neil stumbled backwards. He hadn’t heard that name in years.

Minyard’s eyes flitted from one pale face to the other before taking a drag.

“Well, isn’t this interesting.” His bored tone indicated anything but.

“And how do you know Kevin, Neil? Or should I say Nathaniel?”

Neil was still reeling.

“Nathaniel, your father. You have to believe me; it wasn’t my fault.”

Neil kept silent, rooted to the spot as he tried to decipher the meaning of Kevin’s words.

“I had no say. The Moriyamas, the main branch … they grew tired of him being unable to pay back his debt and arranged the stabbing.”

Kevin’s hands were shaking as he said this, eyes pleading with a despair that confused Neil and snapped him out of his reverie.

“Why would I care who arranged it? He’s dead, that’s all that matters now.”

“He was your father.”

“He killed and chopped up a man in front of us. I’ve spent my whole life running from him. Finding out he was finally dead was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh,” Kevin deflated suddenly.

“What are you even doing here? If Riko sees you he’ll freak.”

“Riko’s here?!”

“Yeah, who do you think number 1 of the Raven’s gang is? In here, anyway.”

“I got caught breaking and entering. What’re you doing here?”

“Riko and me got caught moving some merch. We both got five years.” 

“So, you’re in a gang now?”

“Where else would I be? I spent a childhood following Riko and that wasn’t going to change just because we grew up. He decided to strike out on his own and we joined a rival gang. We were making our way through the ranks of the Ravens until, well. We got caught.”

“And they just let you go to jail?”

“They look after us in here. We basically own this prison.”

“Beside that one tiny detail where _you’re not actually allowed to leave._ ”

“Being in prison is a different kind of freedom.”

Minyard let out a ‘huh’ of disbelief. Neil had nearly forgotten he was there, half hidden in the shadows of the shed and smoking steadily.

“Whatever gets you through the days, Day.” Andrew said.

“Where else in the world would you be free to exercise and read for hours every day while only having to work for six? It’s not like I’m banking on getting legitimate employment when I get out of here anyway.”

“No, you’d rather sell drugs instead.”

“Demand and supply, Neil. If we don’t sell them, they’re just going to get them somewhere else instead. Look at Gordon, for example. Hell, look at Boyd. They’re desperate enough to come to us even though that’s how they ended up in prison in the first place.”

Neil clenched his fists. “What are you giving Matt?”

Kevin seemed taken aback. “Only what he asks for. And only when he can afford it, which isn’t that often.”

“How often?”

“Maybe once every few days?”

Neil huffed out a breath of disbelief, annoyed that Matt had been keeping this from him.

“Anyway, three of us going missing for this amount of time will start to get the officers suspicious. I’m out of here.”

Kevin circled around Neil, throwing him one last look and shaking his head gently before disappearing to the other side of the shed.

Neil turned to Minyard, attention turning to the cigarette nearly burnt to a stub in his hand.

“Can I have a drag?”

“You smoke?”

“Not really.”

“Why would I let you have a drag then?”

“A chance to share the cancer?”

“The comedian strikes again.”

Minyard looked up at Neil from the floor.

“I’ll trade you.”

“What do I have to trade?”

“A drag for a truth.”

Neil hesitated.

“Why are you interested?”

“I haven’t seen Kevin so worked up since he found out one of the COs was his father.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Minyard shrugged.

“Fine. Ask me a question. I might not answer it though.”

“Why do you scream so much at night? What are you dreaming about?”

Neil was overcome with a feeling of cold dread as he remembered his nightmares. Answering seemed harmless enough, and he carefully provided a very edited:

“Getting arrested. Being beaten by my father as a child sometimes, occasionally I dream about my mother dying.”

Neil expected Minyard to press for further details but instead he just nodded and held out his hand in offering. He took the cigarette and had a drag, coughing slightly as the mostly papery smoke hit the back of his throat.

“Thanks.”


	3. Chapter 3

Neil had spent the last two weeks browsing the self-help books on drug addiction in the library, all with titles like “Two Months to Change Your Life!” and “Giving up Cocaine for Jesus”, when he saw a familiar flash of blonde hair passing through the aisles on the other side.

None of the books had anything he could really use, and struck with a sudden last ditch moment of inspiration he hurried over to Minyard and whispered:

“Can you help me get Matt clean?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Who else would I ask, Gordon?”

“What makes you think I could help?”

“I can trade you something.”

“And what do you have that’s worthy of trade?”

“Another truth?”

“Not worth it.”

“What do you want?”

“I want nothing.”

“Everyone wants something.”

“Not me.”

Neil let out a sigh of frustration.

“You like candy, and cigarettes.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“How about I buy you a month’s supply of both?”

“And how would you do that?”

“I could get some funds.” Neil hoped his number for Stuart was still the right one.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

Minyard fixed Neil with a bored expression.

“What’s your plan?”

“Talk to Matt, maybe take him one of these books. Explain what this shit is probably doing to his body. Hope that he stops?”

“That’s idiotic. An addict will never willingly give up a drug because they’re ‘talked to’. You have to force them to purge it out of their system, and we don’t have the resources in here to forcefully keep him away from temptation.”

“So it’s hopeless?”

Minyard’s brow furrowed in thought for a moment before smoothing out again. “You need to tackle the source.”

It took Neil a couple of seconds before it clicked.

“Talk to Riko? That’s suicide.”

“I don’t know what your history with him and Kevin is, but if you’re serious about getting Boyd off the drugs you need to make sure he doesn’t have access to them. Only way you can do that is by talking to the Ravens.”

“That… makes sense. I’ll talk to Riko. Thanks for the help, Minyard.”

“Just get me my stuff by next week and we’ll be even.”

****

“What’s wrong, Neil?”

“Hmmm? Nothing. I’m fine.” Neil continued folding the sheets, shaking himself out of his attempted planning and giving Matt his full attention.

“You’re shaking. And you’ve been quieter than normal all week.”

“It’s a bad time of the year for me.” It was true; it was coming up to the anniversary of his mother’s death. However, it was the upcoming confrontation with the Ravens that had Neil set on edge. The partial deception felt wrong to Neil, as if he was cheating his only friend of information he deserved. He missed the days when lying used to come as easily as breathing.

“Oh, I see. Anything I can do to help? You can talk it through with me if you want.”

“Him and his fag of a boyfriend have probably had a fight.”

“Not everyone falls out as often as you and Allison, Seth. Also what did I say about the slurs?”

“Wait, who is he talking about?”

“Er, Minyard? Your cellmate? I didn’t want to bring it up because you never did.”

“Why do people think we’re dating?”

“Oh please, everyone knows you’re fucking. Why would Minyard put out a warning otherwise? 

“A warning against what?

“You seriously don’t know about this?” Matt asked disbelievingly.

“No?”

“A week ago Minyard put out a, I guess you could call it a PSA, saying that anyone who hurt you would answer to him.”

Neil huffed, unconvinced.

“Why would he do that? He barely talks to me.”

“Everyone just assumed you were fucking and decided to leave you alone.”

Neil thought back to the last week. He’d been so caught up in planning his conversation with the Ravens he hadn’t even noticed that the casual shoves and taunts in the hallways had stopped.

“We’re not fucking though.”

“Has he been trying to make a move?”

“No, I don’t think so?”

“Look, Minyard’s a bit of a loose cannon. Who knows why he does what he does. But you’ve got to be careful around him Neil, okay? He could really hurt you.”

Neil thought back to the shared cigarette, the whispered conversation in the library and the book he’d had casually chucked at his head this morning. Neil had been pacing the room restlessly when he was hit in the head by the paperback. He’d turned to glare at Minyard, only to find that it was the book where he kept his cigarettes. The unspoken offer in the action was clear and he lit up, inhaling the smoke gratefully.

He realised with a start that a dull warmth had slowly started to spread through his chest as he thought about Minyard. What the fuck?

“I’ll be careful.”

****

Neil was walking back from the commissary, candy bars stuffed in a bag filled almost to bursting, when he walked into a tall man with shaggy dark hair and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Hey, whoa there man.”

“Sorry,” Neil muttered hastily.

“Ah it’s cool, don’t worry about it. It’s Neil, right?”

“What’s it to you?” The previous few days had relaxed Neil slightly, and he’d started navigating the hallways with a cautious confidence he now cursed himself for. His mother had taught him better vigilance.

“Chill dude, I don’t have any beef. I’m Roland, you might have heard of me. Then again, knowing Andrew, probably not. Just wanted to check out my better, as it were.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Roland lowered his voice. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, and I can totally see why Andrew won’t fuck me anymore, since if I was sharing a cell with someone with a face like yours I wouldn’t settle for me either.”

He chuckled, self-deprecating. “Anyway, it was good to meet you, man. Good luck with it.”

With a jaunty salute, he took off. Neil was left rooted to the spot, before he shook his head doggedly and carried on back to the cell.

Matt first, and then he’d sort out the weird jumble of feelings the interaction had caused.


	4. Chapter 4

“Matt, would you mind going ahead to work without me? I got called into Wymack’s office.”

“Oh man, are you in trouble?”

“No it’s fine, I think he’s going to offer to let me upgrade jobs or something.”

“You’re going to leave me in the laundry room all by myself?” Matt clutched his heart dramatically.

“You’ll still have Gordon, he’s your favourite anyway, right?”

Matt reached over to ruffle Neil’s hair. “Of course he is, why would my favourite be a sassy little shit like you? Don’t be too long, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Neil grinned, the grin turning immediately into a grimace as Matt started to walk away. He waited until he was safely out of the mess hall before turning to the corner where the Ravens always sat. They took up a sizeable corner of the hall, most of them built like tanks of muscle, with ravens tattooed behind their ears or on their shoulders.

He started to approach them, keeping his steps even and his shoulders back while lowering his eyes deferentially. He didn’t want them to mistake his approach to be a threat. Not that he could have seemed too threatening anyway. Neil had managed to put on a bit of muscle thanks to the now regular meals, but he was still whippet-lean and 5’3”.

“Nathaniel. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Neil raised his eyes and met Riko Moriyama’s. It was like looking into a dark well, the dark brown irises swallowing the pupils completely.

“I go by Neil now.”

“You’ll go by whatever I call you. My family owned your father and we own you by extension.”

Neil swallowed his automatic rebuke and lowered his eyes again so he could hide the simmering irritation.

“So, what drugs do you want? Weed, coke, something stronger perhaps?”

Neil barely contained his grimace of disgust.

“I’m not here for drugs.”

“You wouldn’t have come to me otherwise. It’s the only thing we sell that the Trojans are too cowardly to.”

“It’s something only you can give me, sure, and I suppose it’s to do with drugs.”

“Get on with it then.”

“I need you to cut off Matt Boyd’s supply. I don’t know what he’s taking but I need it to stop.”

Riko frowned thoughtfully.

“That’s a lot of business to lose, Nathaniel. There will be a price to pay.”

“I’m prepared to pay it. I thought I could give you other business instead.”

“Oh?”

“There are plenty of only German and French speaking inmates you don’t currently do business with. I can speak to them for you, give them an idea of what you’re offering.”

“So you’d get a group of strangers addicted just to spare Boyd?”

Neil shrugged.

“They’re making their own decisions. I care about my own.”

“Ruthless, just like your father.” Riko said, eyes sparkling with an intensity that made Neil shiver slightly. “I’ll make it happen. Make sure we have five new customers by the end of next week.”

“Understood.” Neil said with a final bow of his head.

Heart in his throat, he began to walk away, glad the conversation was over with. Five new people, he could do that.

****

The sheen of sweat on Matt’s forehead glowed under the fluorescent lights of the laundry room as his trembling hands handed Neil the next basket of laundry. Neil felt a strange mix of emotions as he watched his friend struggle with withdrawal.

The main feeling was a sense of relief that his friend would soon be clean, mixed with a healthy dose of pride at how well Matt was coping. It had been five weeks now since his talk with Riko, three since he’d kept his side of the bargain and Matt had been cut off.

The first week had been particularly brutal, with Matt turning up to work with red rimmed eyes barely able to speak because he was so tired from the insomnia. The next week he’d been wracked with involuntary muscle tremors; he’d dropped a whole carton of laundry powder he was shaking so hard.

This week seemed more promising though. The tremors had reduced to a slight trembling and he was chattier, asking Neil about the books he was reading and telling him in turn about the weird dream he’d had where his boxing gloves had turned to ash.

“Dan will be visiting soon. She asked to see you.”

Neil had so far been able to avoid Matt’s invitations to the visits, feeling awkward intruding on the happy couple’s precious few moments together.

“She knows about me?”

“Of course she does, you loon. Who else would I talk about?”

“When is she visiting?”

“Well I went and saw her last week, which is when she asked to talk to you. Visitation day will be next week again, Saturday.”

“I suppose I can see her.”

“You’ll love her so much, she’s amazing. You know, she’s just started coaching at risk kids in the school where she works and…”

Neil listened with a smile and let Matt ramble on, glad that his friend was distracted from the shit his body was throwing at him through withdrawal.

“I know what you did for me.” Matt suddenly blurted, mid-sentence.

“What?”

“Seth got it off one of his work out buddies, who overheard something in the canteen. I know you spoke to Riko and cut off the drugs.”

Neil felt his body stiffen.

“I was pissed. Like, how could you, someone I’ve barely known for four months, think you have the right to meddle in my life, my decisions?”

“You _were_ pissed? Past tense?” Neil said, struggling to keep his voice from shaking.

“Yeah, past tense. I realized that this was the best opportunity I’d have to get clean for good. I’ve tried a couple of times, for Dan, but the temptation has always been too much. In here though? It’s like a shitty rehab where instead of therapy you have laundry and instead of a head doctor I have you.”

“I don’t think I make a very good psychiatrist.”

“But you’re there for me, and you listen and you care. That’s enough.”

“We’re okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay Neil. Just next time you want to intervene in my life, warn a boy first yeah?”

“That I can do.”

****

“And you must be Neil, it’s so lovely to finally meet you!”

Dan greeted Neil with a friendly smile, her hair cut into a brutally short pixie cut that framed her face perfectly.

“Nice to meet you too. Matt’s told me a lot about you.”

“Likewise. Putting a name to the face is always good.”

Visitors were only allowed to visit one inmate at a time, so Matt had split his visitation time in half and left as Neil had entered the room, leaving Neil alone with Dan.

“Matt said you asked to see me? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is…” Dan paused, collecting herself. “I had a whole speech prepared but I’ve forgotten it. Let me get straight to the point. I know that Matt getting clean didn’t happen out of the blue, and the only person I can think of behind it is you.”

Neil started, surprised at the fierce emotion in Dan’s eyes.

“I’ve been trying to get him clean for _years_ and you’ve somehow managed to get him three weeks sober within four months of knowing him. I couldn’t thank you enough.”

“Oh, um, it’s fine. To be honest, he’s done way more for me than I could ever have done for him.”

“That’s my Matt. Helping others is just who he is, but I know he’s taken a special shining to you. Look when you get out of here, I wanted to invite you to come stay with us. Matt only got charged for possession so he’ll be out of here in another month, but we’ll come and visit when we can. And afterwards… I want you to know you have a home with us Neil, should you want it.”

“Thanks, Dan. That’s… I haven’t had a home for a while. Staying with you would be great.”

Dan fixed Neil with a smile, Neil returned it tentatively.

****

“Why did you send out a notice saying you’d protect me?”

“I agreed to help you with Boyd, remember? You wouldn’t have been able to do that if you were dead,” answered Andrew from his bunk, lazily throwing a rubber ball up in the air before catching it.

“So you were serious?”

“Do I look like a man who makes a lot of jokes, Neil?”

“I haven’t had anyone look out for me since my mother died.”

“What did I say about saving the sob stories for someone else?”

“You don’t make a lot of jokes but you certainly hide a lot of what you mean to say.”

“I’m an open book.”

“Not all open books are easy to read. Why would you have asked me about my nightmares if you weren’t at least a bit interested in my ‘sob stories’?”

The throwing and catching of the ball paused for a moment before starting up again. Neil tilted his head to the side.

“Everyone thinks we’re fucking, you know.”

“Prison gossip has money on every Tom, Dick and Harry getting their dicks wet.”

“So, you don’t mind?”

“What’s there to mind? Why would I give a shit about what a bunch of prison low-life’s think about my sex life?”

“Roland talked to me.”

Andrew’s shoulders tensed.

“He said you guys hadn’t fucked for a while and it was my fault.”

“Roland doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“So you’re not interested in me?”

Andrew finally sat up, his hazel eyes meeting Neil’s own. The space between the chair where Neil was sitting and the bunk suddenly seemed too close and too far all at the same time.

“I hate you.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Do you want it to be a yes?”

“I’ve never felt… not like this. There’s just something, I can’t explain it. But I want to try.”

“Is that a yes or a no, Neil?”

“Yes.”

Andrew got up and knelt between Neil’s legs.

“Still yes?”

Neil’s let out his breath on a shaky exhale.

“It’s still a yes.”

Andrew reached up and grasped the back of Neil’s neck, the weight of his calloused fingers a grounding force.

The first touch of lips was like tinder, igniting a low burn in Neil’s core that only spread as the kiss deepened and became all that Neil could focus on. Everything narrowed down to the feel of Andrew’s lips and teeth and tongue against his own mouth.

He lost himself in sensation, and it was only after Andrew was breathing harshly against his mouth that he realised that the thrumming need to _run, run, run_ had paused and been replaced by a desire to stay in that one, seamless moment forever.

****

Epilogue

The feel of Andrew’s chest against his back was a grounding force that kept Neil from drifting away entirely as he thought back over the night. He could feel the other man’s slow inhale and exhale as he slept tickling the back of his neck, and in time his eyes drifted shut too.

He dreamt happy dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the wonderful [Christine](http://c-dragon-pirates.tumblr.com/) for betaing and the lovely [Kayla](https://yourwritersblock.tumblr.com/) for cheerleading and helping me come up with ideas for this <3 
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr [here](https://injoblogs.tumblr.com/)! Comments and messages water my crops and clear my skin :D


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